


The Invention of Fire

by Bandity



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Burns, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, PTSD, surprisingly nobody pukes, the tiniest bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandity/pseuds/Bandity
Summary: Edward realizes the hard way that understanding the concept of flame alchemy isn't enough to actually use flame alchemy.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 69





	The Invention of Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nonoel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonoel/gifts).



> For IcyPanther's Patreon Secret Santa event. My gift to Nonoel who requested a fic featuring "Edward Elric stealing Roy Mustang's ignition gloves to try them out and then sufficiently having it blow up in his face," which is something I've wanted to write for a while actually. So, thank you. Title inspired from a Ray Bradbury quote because that's how I roll.

_“‘What is there about fire that’s so lovely? No matter what age we are, what draws us to it?... the thing man wanted to invent but never did... if you let it go on, it'd burn our lifetimes out.’”_

_- **Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451**_

If he was in a bad mood it was because Colonel Bastard was making him show up at the crack of dawn to turn in his report. It wasn’t because the weather was garbage or because he had slipped on ice last night and wrenched his already aching leg too far to the right.

No, it wasn’t because of any of that.

It was all the Colonel’s fault. It wasn’t like Ed couldn’t turn the report in later, after he had gotten some decent sleep and the icy sleet had let up. The man didn’t even have any philosopher’s stone tips or missions to send him on. He was just being a colossal jerk.

Edward burst into the office with as much disruptive energy he could muster. He was greeted by a nearly empty room.

“What’s up, Chief? The Colonel’s not in yet.” Jean Havoc was the only one there, sitting quietly at his desk.

The Colonel was a big, huge, total, colossal jerkface.

“You’re kidding,” Ed grumbled.

“Nope, Colonel won’t be in for at least an hour,” Havoc gave him a lazy grin, “He's got late meetings today and he doesn't come in early if he knows he is staying late.”

“Bastard.” Ed grit his teeth. The man had seriously asked Edward to show up at a time when he wouldn't even be here.

“I’m only here because I didn’t finish some work yesterday. Usually, nobody is here yet.”

“ _Asshole_.”

Havoc plucked the unlit cigarette from his mouth and raised an eyebrow. “You alright there, Ed?”

He was too busy plotting revenge to answer.

“Edward?”

“I’m leaving,” Ed bit out before turning to go. Just as the words left his mouth, deep thunder sounded outside and the freezing rain intensified, furiously pelting the windows. Edward hesitated.

“You can wait in his office if you want.” Havoc stuck the cigarette back in his mouth. “It’s warmer. Take a nap.”

Without another word, Ed trumped into the Colonel’s office and let the door slam shut behind him. He stomped his wet boots on the carpet, hoping to leave muddy tracks. He was going to sleep on the Colonel’s couch, or possibly steal the man’s pens, whichever option looked more appealing in the moment.

As it was, the Colonel's desk was immaculate. Not a pen in sight.

Edward could fix that.

He dropped his own report on the desk. Dissatisfied by the way the few sheets of paper barely made a sound as they landed, Ed slapped his automail hand down as well. The resounded thunk was satisfying. He smirked, thinking he'd left a few scuff marks.

Edward glanced around, listened to see if Havoc was going to check on the noise. When nothing happened, a wider grin spread across Ed's face.

What a shame it would be if something happened to the immaculate desk?

Humming, he made his way to the Colonel's chair. He threw himself down onto plush material and smirked when the chair creaked in protest.

Still humming, Ed slid open the top drawer on his right. He was rewarded with a few nice pens and spare letterheads. Edward picked up a sheet of paper, promptly wrote "Bastard" on it and then slipped it into the middle of the stack. He grabbed a hold of the nice pens and dropped them in the middle of the desk.

Now bored, he moved onto the next drawer, which was locked. In quick succession he tried all the other drawers in the desk. Every single one was locked.

Edward huffed in irritation. _Paranoid bastard._

He tapped his fingers across the desktop, thinking. The rain, pelting the window behind him, provided the perfect cover for any noise he was making. After a moment of contemplation, he clapped his hands and slapped them down on the desk. Every locked drawer popped opened and now had tiny, metal skulls embellishing the area around the worthless keyholes.

Edward began rifling through drawers left and right. Whiskey, cigars, some other alcohol with shot glasses.

_Adults are so boring._

Disappointed, Ed shut drawers loudly and grumbled when his flesh finger got in the way.

He sat back in the chair and groaned at the way his leg ached. The weather really wasn't doing him any favors and the nap that Havoc suggested sounded appealing.

Edward kicked the lowest drawer with his boot, hoping his tread would leave a light mark. The drawer slammed shut, but popped open again from the force.

_Ka-thunk._

Something in the drawer fell?

_Hidden compartment!_

Edward lunged forward, aching muscles forgotten, and ripped the drawer open. The false bottom of the drawer had fallen in. Ed's fingers lifted it away completely, revealing a smooth, thin, black box with a silver clasp.

_Interesting._

If it was just more booze, Edward was going to chuck it out the window.

He held his breath, popped the lid open and blinked at the contents.

Two white gloves.

Ed picked one up and flipped it over to find the telling red symbols. He let his breath out in a huff. That was it? The colonel was hiding his ignition gloves? Everyone knew he had them, why bother with a locked drawer and a false compartment?

Edward glanced around the mess he had made.

And they weren't even that hard to find!

"Stupid Colonel," Ed grumbled. He picked up one of the gloves again and rolled the material between his fingers. It was rougher than he imagined. Probably hurt to wear them for long periods of time…

Edward huffed again. Not that he cared.

He placed the gloves on the table and spread the fingers out evenly. He set his hands on top, wondering if they would fit. It seemed like they would. Again, Edward paused and listened. It didn't sound like Havoc was at the door. Seemed like he had some time.

With a quick decision, Edward began pushing flesh fingers into the stiff material. He hesitated and then wiggled his fingers free. Automail would be better.

Ed slipped the glove onto metallic fingers. He held his hand away to study it.

Edward had never tried flame alchemy, but the concept wasn't beyond him. Create a spark, convert oxygen, create a flame. He was a prodigy and if the Colonel could do it, then why couldn't he?

His eyes landed on the desk and the sloppy report. He considered it, imagined it bursting into flames. He had hated writing it, but destroying it would only cause problems. Also, as much as he would like to set Mustang's desk on fire, he wasn't an idiot, flames indoors could spread easily.

He knew a bit about that.

Edward stood from the chair and turned in a circle. What could he do? He had to try it out.

Edward's eyes stopped at the window. The freezing rain outside was pelting it mercilessly.

_Perfect._

Ed unlocked the window and swung it open. He jerked his hand away, realizing the glove had almost gotten wet. They wouldn't work then. Edward knew that much.

He took a step back and studied the situation. The water would keep everything from getting out of control. He would just make a spark, and shoot any flames out into the deluge.

_Easy._

Edward took a deep breath and snapped.

* * *

Roy was cursing the weather. He had been awoken by thunder and the rain battering his roof in the middle of the night, the sound, triggering memories of gunfire and far off explosions, sent him back to a different place.

He had spent several hours staring into the dark, breathing, lost in thought. Eventually, he managed to fall back to sleep, but when he awoke again he had overslept. He had told Fullmetal to meet him in his office early in the morning, he was supposed to have meetings all day and it was the only time he could see the kid before sending him off on his next assignment. The fact that Edward was annoyed at having to get up early had nothing to do with it.

Well, almost nothing.

Roy shifted his umbrella. It had been amusing to force Edward to wake up, but since the weather had taken a turn, he wished he had set the appointment to the evening. Roy felt the cold seeping into his feet.

_What a horrible morning._

As he took the first step up the stairs leading inside, a loud bang sent him to the ground, shielding his head.

Through the rain, he caught the sound of glass hitting the ground and the smell of smoke.

He checked in with himself. It didn't seem like a flashback or a hallucination. He looked up, turned and saw another soldier pointing upwards toward the building. Not a hallucination then.

Roy followed the pointing with a sinking feeling.

_Not the third window from the left, not that one. Not-_

Roy saw the great hole where his window used to be.

_Damn it._

Umbrella forgotten, Roy scrambled up the steps and sprinted the rest of the way to his office.

* * *

Time slowed down for Edward. He felt it when things immediately went wrong and, quite literally, blew up in his face. Most of the energy from the blast went outward and he had enough sense to close his eyes as glass went flying and the force sent him hurtling backwards and sliding across Mustang's desk.

When he landed in a heap on the other side, time sped up. One moment he was hitting the floor, the next, someone was yelling and something was hitting his arm and then everything went dark as something covered his face.

Startled, he tried to speak out, but he choked. Arms were dragging him across the floor now. He tried to protest, but it made him cough. Finally, the arms stopped pulling him, but then he was being picked up. He was set down before he could protest.

The dark cloth was pulled away and Havoc was there, patting his back hard and telling him to stay calm.

"I am," Ed wheezed. "I am calm." Edward felt a sharp pain in his mouth. He spat specks of glass and blood down his front.

"Shit, kid." Havoc used a corner of the cloth to wipe at the boy's face. Edward struggled to free his hands from the material wrapped around him.

"What is this?" Ed rasped.

"My jacket." Havoc held up a sleeve. "You were on fire."

"Oh."

"I smothered the flames and checked the rest of the room. Things are a little singed, but nothing is still burning." Havoc pulled away the jacket, exposing Edward's arms for the first time. "I forgot that was your automail arm and I panicked a bit at first."

The ignition glove was intact, but Ed's sleeve was burned. The fabric was completely gone in places and if that had been his flesh arm, he would have been in excruciating pain. As it was, he was feeling a stinging on his face and neck. Ed carefully began prodding his cheek. He winced at the flare of pain.

"Careful," Havoc warned, "looks like you've got some burns on your face."

Ed opened his mouth to reply when the door swung open and the Colonel burst into the room.

Edward's reaction was to try to hide his gloved hand from view. Roy took in Fullmetal, sitting on the desk, burns marking his face and Havoc leaned over him, concern evident.

"What did you do?" Mustang bit out.

"It was a mistake." Ed looked away. There was no sense in trying to cover it up, it was obvious. "I'll fix the glass."

Roy looked into his office, swore under his breath and turned back to them.

"How badly is he hurt?"

Ed blinked, realizing Mustang was directing the question at Havoc and acting like Edward was not in the room at all now.

"I'm fine," Ed managed to say without coughing.

"You have blood on your face." Roy spared him a glare before turning away again. "Havoc?"

"My guess would be that his mouth was open and he caught some glass. Some smoke inhalation. The burns aren't too bad, sir," Havoc reported.

Ed slipped the glove from his hand.

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"Go to the hospital."

"What? No!" To his dismay, Ed started coughing

"If you don't go, I'll call your brother." Roy grabbed the glove from Edward. "Don't you ever try anything like that again. Do I make myself clear?"

Ed quickly forced his mutinous lungs to behave.

"I should have been able to do it, the concept is simple enough." More blood dribbled down his chin. He wiped it away with a burned sleeve.

Roy looked like he might strangle his youngest subordinate.

He turned back to his office with another swear. Rain was currently soaking the carpet and creating puddles on his desk. It could have been worse. He looked back at Fullmetal, who was intensely glaring at him. The effect was quite lost due to the multiple burns dotting his face and neck, singed hair and clothes and that bit of blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. He looked like a snot nosed brat who had lost a fight.

It could have been a lot worse.

Mustang shoved the glove away into his pocket. He took a deep breath. He watched as the boy was frantically waving Havoc away from him, still trying to appear like he was fine. Roy sighed. 

"You couldn't have waited for there to be actual paperwork on my desk before setting it on fire?"

Ed scoffed.

"I didn't set the desk on fire! The desk is fine…" Edward's eyes shifted back and forth. "Mostly. I'll fix it anyway." Edward hopped off the desk, but Havoc grabbed his arm.

"Careful," he warned.

"I'm fine. I wasn't hurt."

"You were screaming like you were." Havoc's hand dropped from Ed's arm.

Edward frowned and looked away.

"I didn't realize," he mumbled. He stepped past Havoc and straightened up, though he didn't look up to meet the Colonel's eyes.

"I'll fix your office." He didn't like it, but it was fair, Edward would fix what he had destroyed.

"Yes, you will, but hospital first."

"I don't need the hospital! I-"

"Fullmetal, if you don't go to the hospital, I swear, I will suspend you."

Edward wanted to argue, but they were interrupted by several officers storming into the room to investigate the explosion.

"Gentlemen," Roy quickly switched gears, his tone becoming smooth and deeper. He stepped forward, partially blocking Ed from view. "It was just some alchemy practice that went awry. My department will clean everything up."

The officers didn't give them any trouble, besides a few reminders to be more careful. Edward saw one of them taking in his singed appearance.

"Great, now there's two of them?" The officer muttered on his way out.

As soon as they left, Roy glanced back at Ed, congeniality gone.

"In the end, what you did was stupid. You could have hurt someone. If you have no self-preservation, at least think of those around you." The Colonel held up his hand, silencing Edward's protest. "No, do you understand?"

Frowning, Ed nodded.

"Good. Havoc, take him to the hospital."

"Yes, sir." The man clapped Edward's shoulder. "Come on, chief. We'll get hot chocolate on the way back."

Edward rolled his eyes, but as he stepped out the door, Roy heard his voice pipe up.

"Can I get whipped cream with mine?"

The door shut and Roy was left alone with the smell of burning and a freezing cold draft working through the rooms.

Roy sighed. He moved into his office to assess the damage. Blown out window, singed desk, a few scattered pages of a sloppily written report on the floor. Mustang picked up a page, studied the way the paper had browned and began to curl from being exposed to heat.

The Colonel's eyes landed on his desk and the still open drawers. Fullmetal was lucky none of the alcohol had exploded. Mustang realized he was staring at tiny skulls adorning the locks on his drawers.

He sighed deeply.

He was never going to schedule an early morning meeting again.

* * *

"Can I ask you something?"

Roy looked up from his place on the couch. He had moved all his work to the coffee table and was reading reports as Fullmetal repaired his office. Edward had come back from the hospital after a brief examination had concluded his injuries were minor. His mouth had stopped bleeding and he had been given an ointment for the burns. His face was now covered in it.

The window had been quickly taken care of, which just left the desk to clean up and put back to the way it was before it was broken into.

"Yes," Roy slowly turned the page in the report he was reading.

"Why were the gloves in a hidden compartment?"

"To keep them hidden."

"But that didn't work."

Roy set the report down.

"Obviously."

"You don't keep them for emergencies, right? They don't do much good locked and hidden in the drawer. It would take a long time to get them out."

"They're not for emergencies." Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. _Well, what the hell?_ "They're old. A reminder."

"Like the first pair you ever got?" Ed clapped his hands and, with a flash, altered the desk back to it's boring design.

Roy stood from the couch and made his way over to inspect the work. He didn't answer the question and Edward assumed he was ignoring him again.

_Jerk._

"No," Roy spoke low. "You've got it backwards." The Colonel produced the slim black case from his pocket. He opened up the bottom drawer and slipped it inside. "My _last_ pair from the war." The drawer slid shut.

"Last?" Ed had lowered his tone without meaning too. Roy straightened up.

"The gloves wear out over time. I was given that new pair towards the end, but I did not use them." Roy began inspecting the top of his desk, now free of scorch marks.

"Why not?" Ed felt like he shouldn't ask, but the words slipped out without thinking.

"Because the war was ending." The Colonel brushed imaginary dirt from his desktop. "Didn't make sense to break in a new pair."

Roy's gloves had been so worn, sometimes he could barely produce a spark anymore. He had been sick at the thought. That he had burned so much, so many that he had managed to wear out the rough fabric in his fingertips. In the end, he wouldn't put on the new gloves.

Would it be so bad if one of the times he went to use his alchemy, nothing happened?

Roy hated those gloves.

And his expression must have shown something because Edward moved away, avoiding his gaze.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

Whether or not Fullmetal actually understood, Roy wasn't sure.

The Colonel watched as the boy tried to disguise the limp in his gait.

He probably understood more than he should about a lot of things.

Mustang cleared his throat.

"The report you turned in was half burned away. It was a mild improvement from what you normally turn in, but I need you to rewrite it."

"Seriously?" Ed spun around.

"Yes and with the new report I want a statement from you swearing that you are never going to do anything this stupid ever again. Are we clear?"

"I understood the concept!" Edward threw his hands in the air. "I don't understand why it exploded like that," he grumbled.

"And you're never going to." Mustang waved him away. "The report and statement are due on my desk in two days. Clear?"

"Fine." Ed limped towards the door, either too tired to disguise the pain he was in or forgetting he was trying to hide it at all. "Flame alchemy is… stupid," Ed grumbled on his way out. Roy shook his head and moved to lock his drawers. He was greeted by the sight of ugly skulls etched into the desk's embellishments.

"Fullmetal!" Roy shouted. Outside of his office, most of the Colonel's staff laughed as Ed picked up his pace and ran from the room as quickly as he could.

Roy snapped the drawers open to inspect the actual locks and noticed his letterheads were askew. He pulled one out that was sticking out from the middle of the stack and saw the untidy scrawl written across the page.

_Bastard._

Mustang dropped it back into the drawer and rolled his eyes. This kid...

Roy left the desk as it was, too tired to fix it himself. He sat heavily down onto his couch and sunk into the cushions. He could probably catch a nap before his afternoon meetings. The fear from the night before, the panic he had felt and, though he wouldn't admit it, the worry that his youngest subordinate had been injured all faded as he took deep breaths and sunk deeper into the familiar cushions. He could smell the evidence of fire. That stench of burning that always lingered.

He knew it well.

_Fullmetal brat._

He felt himself drifting off into a light sleep, exhaustion finally winning him over for just a little while.

Outside, the rain continued on without stopping.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, the original prompt wanted Roy to be both pissed and amused. I struggled with the amused. I wanted to hurt Ed more, but that would have cut the amused out completely. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please leave a comment!


End file.
